


Worth It.

by clubstocrews23



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 18:02:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubstocrews23/pseuds/clubstocrews23
Summary: Things have been worse than usual lately, so maybe it would be better if they just... stopped.





	Worth It.

They were supposed to be done with bad days. After their conversation a few months ago, when Lucas promised that he wasn’t going to give up on Eliott because of his bipolar disorder, it was supposed to be all uphill for the both of them.

 

For a while now, though, Eliott can’t seem to find that direction. He barely wakes up in the morning. He can’t keep track of the days. He used to be able to draw pictures of different things when he entered a depressive episode, pictures of his brain in a locked jar and his heart at sea, but now not even a fresh page in front of him can silence the demons. The worst part is, he’s taking the pills. He never stopped taking the pills. Part of him wonders if they’re the problem.

 

He stops taking them if Lucas isn’t watching, because maybe that will make it better.

 

And Lucas, fuck, Lucas. Eliott hates to see Lucas dealing with him almost as much as he hates his own feelings. He watches Lucas make dinner in the kitchen using the last of the pasta they bought weeks ago, watches him set the table like they’re going to have company, watches him eat all by himself. With a frown. Eliott hates that frown. Every time he sees it, he can only remember how he used to make Lucas smile all the time, and how for the past three weeks it’s been whispered conversation and crying instead. It’s all his fault that his boyfriend is unhappy. He wants to get up and be with Lucas, but his arms don’t want to move, and every time he tries to blink his eyelids stay closed for a split second longer than they should. He wants to be with Lucas, but there’s nothing in him.

 

It hurts more than anything else. It hurts to breathe. And it gets worse than that, even.

 

Mika and Lisa are supposed to watch Eliott while Lucas is at school. Eliott probably isn’t supposed to know about it, but after the second week straight of no movement, the roommates gave up on subtlety. Mika sits beside him on the couch with the TV at a low volume and the subtitles on, analyzing some program about true crime in Paris. Every so often, he glances over. Eliott tries not to make eye contact. He feels awful enough as is, and being baby-sat makes it worse. He knows it gives Lucas some peace of mind to know that he’s at least safe if he isn’t eating, but it pisses him off to think that Lucas doesn’t trust him alone.

 

When Lucas gets home on Monday, some demented part of Elliot’s brain decides it’s time to say he’s had enough.

 

“I’m not a child,” he tells Lucas as the other boy begins to unpack his backpack at the kitchen table.  “I don’t need everyone to keep watching me. I can take care of myself.”

 

“I know,” Lucas responds. “I’m sorry.” He speaks with this sort of resignation, this kind of defeat. Eliott thinks he’s getting used to hearing it, which scares him, because it means he’s heard it a lot. Three weeks of depression, three weeks of being upset, three weeks getting used to hearing a voice void of happiness and life, to the point where he can hardly remember what Lucas sounded like before.

 

“Don’t you trust me?”

 

“I do. You know I do.” It’s a helpless statement. Already done.

 

Eliott clenches his eyes shut as tight as possible so he can’t see Lucas’s expression. He imagines it anyway. “Then why are you acting like this?” He hates himself for speaking. Hates himself. The words come out anyway. “Tell them to leave me be.”

 

“I will if you want me to,” Lucas says. The guilt hits Eliott again. He’s being a jerk to the one person who loves him. He’s being awful, awful, awful, and he can’t stop it.

 

There should be more to it, should be something else to say, but that’s it. The whole conversation. They don’t even fight. Eliott almost wishes that Lucas would be short with him, because it would mean he was feeling some emotion other than sadness.

 

No, that can’t end the exchange.

 

“I don’t want people giving up their lives for me. You have other stuff you should be doing besides thinking about me all the time.”

 

Lucas sighs, heavily, as if he can’t believe they’re having this conversation again for the millionth time. He has a right to. He finishes stacking the rest of the books on the kitchen table and moves toward the refrigerator to prepare them both something for dinner– or lunch, or whatever meal they eat at whatever time of day it is. Eliott rolls over on the couch. He decides he’ll sleep out here tonight, instead of in bed with Lucas, because that’s what they both need. Emotional distance. And if he’s out here, he can leave early tomorrow morning if his limbs will listen to him. He won’t even need to wake Lucas to go.

 

Maybe he should say that. “And I don’t want you traipsing around here like–”

 

Lucas slams the fridge door. “Fuck, Eliott, can we not do this again today? Can you give me one fucking day?”

 

Silence.

 

“Is it really going to be like this all the time now? I’m going to get home and you’re going to tell me you hate me?”

 

Knew this was coming. Knew it was coming. “I don’t want you to be–” Eliott begins. There’s venom in his own tone, he hears it, even if he can’t feel it in his chest. Well, he did think he wanted an argument. Here’s the anger.

 

“I have homework to do,” Lucas snaps. “I’m going to be in my room. Do whatever you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

 

Eliott clenches his eyes shut again so he doesn’t have to watch him leave.

 

_____

 

Later that evening, Eliott awakes to the sound of Lucas’s door swinging open. He curls up smaller. If he can pretend that he’s still asleep, he won’t have to look the person he loves in the eyes when Lucas tells him it’s over between them. That’s what this will be, after all. A goodbye. Couples that aren’t happy for weeks on end break up, and God intended them to. Maybe he just isn’t meant to hold a relationship.

 

Lucas approaches, his voice soft. “I’m sorry, I didn’t– earlier, I’m–” He sits down next to Eliott on the couch. “I’m sorry.”

 

What is there to be sorry for? It’s Eliott who’s the fuck-up, Eliott who’s ruining everything. He tried to warn Lucas, he did, that this is how things were always going to end between them. Eliott can scarcely conjure an emotion on the subject– he prophesied it from the beginning.

 

It sucks to be right.

 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Lucas repeats. “It’s been a long day at school, and I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed early today.”

 

Eliott knows what this means. He feels nothing. He feels everything. “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

 

“Don’t talk like that. I’m really sorry.”

 

“It’s not going to change.”

 

“It is. It’s changed before, and it will change again.” Lucas runs a hand through Eliott’s hair, twirling the strands between his fingertips. “Things are going to get better, I promise. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. It’s not your fault.”

 

“And what if they don’t?” Eliott asks.

 

“They will.”

 

“But what if they don’t?” When Lucas doesn’t answer right away, Eliott continues, “It’s been three weeks. What if this is all it’s going to be now? What if this is all it’s ever going to be?” Lucas shakes his head. “What if all I’m ever going to do is make you sad from here on in?”

 

Eliott waits for his boyfriend’s response, but nothing comes in return. He expected as much. There’s no response because there’s nothing to say because there’s no clapback to make that statement better.

 

“Forget it,” he says. “It isn’t worth it. I’m not worth it.”

 

As if these were the magic words, he feels Lucas shift beside him. Lucas’s hand moves from his hair to his back, in a comforting motion. His boyfriend shakes his head harder. “No. You listen to me.” Lucas’s hand traces looping circles on Eliott’s shoulder blades. “You will always be worth it to me. Do you hear? Always.”

 

“No.”

  
“You are.”

 

“Even if you’re sad?” Eliott asks. He can hardly whisper. His brain doesn’t want him to speak.

 

“Even if I’m sad. Especially if I’m sad.” Lucas’s hand trails along Eliott’s spine. “The way I see it is like this: if it makes me upset to see you sad, then how lucky am I to have someone I care about so much.”

 

“If it doesn’t change–”

 

“Screw change! I love you. You’re the one I love.”

 

“It’s going to be the same conversation over and over–”

 

“Shut up, okay? Just shut up.” Lucas grabs one of Eliott’s hands in his. “Don’t even try to convince me otherwise. I love you. I’m staying right here.”

 

He slips beneath the blankets next to Eliott and presses his chest to Eliott’s back. “So I take it we’re sleeping here tonight?” he asks.

 

Eliott can’t find the will even to nod. He squeezes Lucas’s hand in response.


End file.
